Lumberjack
by AnonymousTwit
Summary: Russia is really bored and America is in a generous mood, so he decides to teach his rival a little game...
1. Lumberjack

**A word from the author: This is my first Hetalia fanfiction ever! Hooray! Now I know that those words can chase people away very quickly, but I'm just going to shamelessly ask that you read it anyway. :3 Also, I can't write out accents to save my life, so I'm not going to try and then completely butcher it. Also, forgive me for any grammatical errors that I didn't catch. :/**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, but I wish I did because just about everything in this show is genius!**

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The meeting had gone uncharacteristically smoothly, much to everyone's surprise and Germany's absolute joy. Instead of the usual desire to bash his head against a wall for sweet release, he was finding himself peacefully sitting back as everyone gave their presentations and debates and break time came so quickly that it almost felt like a dream. Almost. They all had already accepted the fact that there would never be a day where Italy wasn't clinging to Germany's person and saying something about pasta, or a day where America wouldn't proclaim himself the hero and radiate energy that filled the room wherever he was. However, that was normality. It anything was different like that, if England and France weren't fighting or if Cand-i, Ca-, Caaaan..., uh, _Canadia!,_ was the center of attention, then something was wrong. That was their normal, and went something felt off, something must be _off_.

And despite the smooth meeting so far and the fact that nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the nations couldn't help but feel like something was, in fact, not normal. The atmosphere of the room seemed oddly cold. Freezing, even, and no one could figure out why it felt so wrong.

And then someone noticed Russia brooding in the corner.

Not even his sisters or the Baltics could really say that they'd ever seen what happened when the Russian personification got bored. Normally, he'd be smiling, albeit creepily, asking people to become one with him and radiating pure evil. However, he was instead sitting all the way at the end of the table, his evil aura at a completely new level of horrifying and even Italy was reeling back at the sudden change in atmosphere. No one knew what to do, and no one wanted to. If Russia was so bored, then what would he do to stop that boredom? Would he kidnap someone, or injure them? Would he torture them to death in a slow and painful manner as he laughed at their screams of agony and bathed in their blood? Honestly, they weren't too crazy on finding out.

"How long has he been sitting there, anyway?" England asked with sincere curiosity. He had been lucky enough to find a seat on the other side of the room, so he didn't really have to worry about it, but there was still a certain level of paranoia flooding his mind as he watched Russia just sit there with absolutely nothing to do and no one to talk to.

"I don't know, the entire meeting, aru?" China guessed. He hadn't been paying attention, but now he was and he was finding himself oddly intimidated.

"Perhaps someone should talk to him?" France suggested somewhat quietly.

"Are you _crazy!?_ " was everyone's immediate reply.

America pondered this. In all honesty, he was just as curious. He'd never seen Russia that bored either, and he seemed a bit lonely as well. Sure, Russia scared people away before the Soviet Union was even a thing, and after that, he was ten times scarier, maybe more, than he ever was, and he had also become incredibly violent during the Cold War, which he knew personally...

But those days were over and done. Sure, he was still a scary person, but not like he used to be. As much as he hated him sometimes, and as much as they fought, he honestly didn't like seeing him like this. Maybe he was just in a generous mood, but he felt himself wanting to fix this problem.

Besides, he was the hero, and he wasn't afraid of Russia anyway.

"Yo Russia!" America called out, immediately catching the attention of every nation in the room.

Russia almost jumped, his head shooting upward in surprise at hearing his name called. He blinked, especially not expecting his American rival to be approaching him with such a wide grin. America pulled up a chair and sat down across from him, leaning forward and watching Russia as he slowly processed who he was talking to. His face went from surprise back to boredom.

His aura of malice did seem much stronger, though. "What do you want, Amerika?"

America continued to smile. "Nothing. Just wanted to know if you wanted to play a game is all."

"A game?" Russia furrowed his eyebrows. "Why would I want to play some stupid American game with you?"

America pouted. "I don't know. You just seemed so bored and I kinda felt bad-"

"Go away."

"Aaaaaand," America continued, completely ignoring Russia's demand, "I thought you'd like this game. It's called lumberjack."

"Lumberjack?" Russia seemed at least somewhat curious now, which was an improvement. Now he was getting somewhere. "That's a stupid name. Now go away before a smash your skull in."

America continued to pout, showing absolutely no signs of fear. Perhaps a new strategy was in order. "You get to inflicted pain on each other in this game."

That got his attention. He now had Russia fully intrigued. By this time, the other nations were slowly inching closer and closer to the small exchange between the two nations. Some assumed that someone was gonna get hurt, or worse, but they knew that they couldn't interfere. They might as well have a death wish if they got in between them. They could only watch was the scene played out before them. For some, it was terrifying.

For others, it was oddly amusing.

"Inflict pain, you say?" Russia asked, now very interested in this game.

"Yep. I'll show you." America took off his gloves and rolled down the sleeve of his left arm, then instructed that Russia do the same. After giving him an odd look, Russia gingerly did the same.

"Now take my hand." America said, holding his hand out for Russia to take. Russia looked at him as if he'd grown a second head. Actually, that probably wouldn't weird him out that much. "Come on, just grab it."

Russia stared at him for a moment longer before he finally, though slow and unsure, reached out and took America's hand. "You gotta hold on tight."

"Okay..." Russia said slowly. He really wasn't sure what to expect from his rival at this moment. "I still don't get-"

 _ **SMACK!**_

Russia was visibly jolted, almost pulling away from his grip as he stared wide eyed at the deep red hand print now marring his forearm. He hadn't expected that at all. He looked back at America, who was grinning ear to ear. He knew this would work.

"Your turn. First person to let go loses."

Russia stared at him blankly, obviously letting the gears turn in his head as he pieced together exactly what they were doing. Then, slowly, a smile started to creep on his face. The aura around him began to increase and expand, the smile creeping upon his face widening until he was giving America the biggest, creepiest grin he could possibly muster. He nodded, looking down at America's arm with excitement as he raised his hand.

 _ **THWACK!**_

America winched. There was now a hand print on his arm identical to that on Russia's. He looked up at Russia, a smirk gracing his lips. "You caught on quick." he mused.

"Da," Russia replied, "and you were right, by the way. This _is_ fun."

"Thought you'd enjoy this." America once again raised his hand and prepared for another strike.

They went at it for a solid ten minutes, the resounding cracks becoming louder and quicker. Eventually, each impact became so loud that the nations around them were cringing. By the time Germany forced them to call their game a draw, both of their arms were a deep ugly purple with spots of black and were lightly bleeding. Russia remained at his seat in the corner, while America returned to where he was, next to England.

"How's your arm? Is it okay? It doesn't look good." England asked cautiously, only slightly concerned.

"Huh? Oh, yeah. It's broken." he answered nonchalantly.

England was about to demand that he see a doctor when America pointed to where Russia was sitting. "His is, too."

Russia was hiding his arm behind the table and under his sleeve. It was completely limp and would probably be unusable for a little while. However, he showed no signs of pain. In fact, he looked rather happy. He was smiling with his usual deceptively gentle smile that had been missing just minutes before, now once again plastered on his face. Back to normality.

Mission accomplished.

When the world conference ended and everyone went home, Russia met Latvia just as they were entering Russia's home. "What do you want, Russia?" Latvia asked nervously.

Russia smiled with genuine happiness. "Hello, Latvia. You would like to play a game with me, da? It is called lumberjack."

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 **Another word from the author: I'm surprised that so few people have ever heard of this game. In my middle school, and my high school, we played Lumberjack all the time, in the classrooms and hallways. The point was to inflict as much pain on the other person until someone let go. It was incredibly stupid, but also morbidly entertaining. I thought that Russia and America playing this game was a fun idea. This is also a great story to use as my first published story while I get used to this website's system. I hope you enjoyed this and I hope to upload new stories in the future. Have a nice day. :)**

 **~AnonymousTwit**


	2. Five Finger Fillet

**I'm so happy that you guys liked my story! :D So, I decided to make a follow up! I hope that you enjoy this one, too!**

 **Warning, though. I wrote it at three in the morning. XD Please forgive me for any grammatical errors that I missed.**

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Russia sat in silence as the meeting droned on. It was the third day in a row that they had met in this stupid room and absolutely no progress had been made whatsoever. He had already fallen asleep at least once, and so far, no one had a single useful thing to contribute. In fact, the only interesting thing that had happened during the entire conference was another of England and France's arguments, and that wasn't anything new.

So, long story short, Russia was very bored, again.

He covered his ears in annoyance as the ruckus grew to new heights, Germany trying his best to try and gain at least some semblance of control. Russia brought his thoughts away from his current environment, choosing to entertain himself by looking at different countries and imagining what their faces would look like after being introduced to his pipe. It wasn't as fun as it use to be during the reign of the Soviet Union, but it was something at least.

"THAT'S IT!" Germany finally screamed. Russia had seen him look like he wanted to pull his hair out before, but he'd never seen him actually do it. It looked pleasantly painful. "We're having a break, now. EVERYBODY GET OUT!"

Germany then violently stormed out of the room, a nervous Italy and only slightly concerned Prussia following after him. The rest of the countries either left soon after or stayed and talked. From where he was, he could see Japan hiding from South Korea while France and Spain talked about whatever France and Spain talked about. Russia really couldn't care less at the moment. Switzerland was sitting silently with Liechtenstein while she talked to Hungary cheerfully. Off to their left was America and England, one looking as obnoxiously happy as ever and the other being annoyed by it. Nothing out of the ordinary there. He'd seen the Baltics slip out pretty quickly, though he wasn't sure why, and Ukraine and Belarus had left not too long ago to do whatever they did. He wasn't quite sure what it was exactly. Meanwhile, he was all alone. Yep, seemed normal enough.

But he was really, really bored. And lonely.

A couple minutes past, and Russia hadn't moved an inch. It wasn't like he had anything better to do but watch other nations move around and do things at the moment. Sometimes, they would notice him staring at them and they would have one of two reactions: run for their lives or pass out. Any other day, he'd find it funny, but right now, it was just annoying. He noticed himself subconsciously tapping his foot as he leaned his head against one propped hand and drummed his fingers against the table with the other. It was all he could do as he waited for time to march on. Perhaps he should take a nap? It seemed like the best option.

Then his eyes fell back on America and England. They were still talking, but it seemed much less heated than it was before. Russia stared for a moment, then blinked, feeling a weird sense of déjà vu wash over him. Hadn't he been bored like this once before? He looked down at his arm, remembering the shock of the first sudden smack that had come without warning. Ah yes, that stupid American game had actually been rather fun.

Maybe America knew some other fun games. Now, there was an idea! With that thought, Russia stood up and made his way across the room to where America and England were seated.

* * *

England sat and listened as America rambled on about the science behind the airplane and some of his experiences as a pilot. He would _never_ admit it, but the young nation's intelligence surprised him whenever he started talking about these sorts of things. At least it wasn't before comic books. He honestly couldn't have cared less. America had been telling him something about flying an F-22 or whatever it was when he looked across the table and paused. At first, England wasn't quite sure what had gotten into him.

He immediately got his answer when Russia pulled up a chair across from them.

England subconsciously backed away as America stared at the larger nation with slight confusion. "Hello, America."

America tilted his head. "Uh, hey Russia. What's up?"

Russia slumped his shoulders, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Uh... Do you remember that meeting where we played that fun game?"

While America had to think about to remember, England knew exactly what he was talking about. The idiot couldn't use that arm for a week afterward, and guess who ended up having to help him with all of his work?

America snapped his fingers. "Oh yeah! You mean when we played Lumberjack!"

"Yes. You see..." Russia pouted. "...I get to the point, now. I am bored. What other games do you know?"

America blinked, then smirked. "You want to play a stupid American game?"

Russia nodded, his pout still firmly on his face. "A different one. What other fun games do you know?"

As America leaned back with a thoughtful look, England let out a sigh of relief. _Thank goodness_ Russia didn't request that idiotic and barbaric game of self torture and give him more work to do. Of course, with his luck, whatever America came up with would probably be just as bad. Slowly, a knowing smile started to appear on America's face, which turned back into a smirk. England prepared for the worst.

"Okay, I got one." America said excitedly. "I could never get anyone to play it with me and I haven't played it years, but I think you'll like this one. Have you ever played Five Finger Fillet?"

Russia tilted his head and blinked. "I have not. What is it?"

"Well, you may have heard of it by a different name. You ever heard of Bishop? Nerve?" His smile widened. "Hand Roulette? It's called that, too."

"I still have never heard of it, but I like it already." Russia's smile had finally returned. He was feeling somewhat giddy. Who would have guessed that America knew about such interesting games?

Meanwhile, England was lost in his own thoughts. Which the look on both Russia's and America's faces, he was already feeling nervous. _Please don't let it be a dangerous game where someone could get hurt._ _ **Please don't let it be a dangerous game where someone could get hurt.**_

"Hey Iggy, you got a knife I could borrow?"

 _Drat it._

"Why on _Earth_ would I do that!?" England shouted.

"Come on, please? It's not like I'm gonna make you play. You can even go somewhere else if you want, okay? I promise this game isn't life-threatening."

England stared at him with uncertainty. "This is a terrible idea."

"Now, England." Russia cooed creepily. "It's not very nice to ruin someone's fun like this. Pretty please?"

England felt himself backing away slowly. The way Russia was looking at him was like that of a killer. He really didn't want to deal with killer Russia. If anything, he'd rather deal with regular creepy Russia than _this_.

England looked away nervously, reaching into his belt for a dagger. "Fine. Don't blame me if someone gets killed."

"Thanks, Iggy!" America said happily as he took the knife from the older nation. Ignoring the " _stop calling me that!_ " from his retreating form, America turned back to Russia.

"Okay, so here's how you play." He put his hand on the table and spread his fingers out. "You gotta keep 'em as far apart as possible. You also gotta not be afraid to get hurt, but you'll be fine."

Russia watched with interest as America forcefully embedded the knife into the table in the space in between his thumb and index finger. "That's where the knife needs to stay, in the spaces in between your fingers. That's it. You lose if you cut yourself, and extra points if you can't stop really fast without hesitation. Now, watch me."

He began to jab at the spaces between his fingers in rapid succession, the blade remaining dangerously close to his fingers as it jumped around his hand like a ballet dancer.

"And that's all there is to it. You try."

Russia gingerly took the knife as he spread his fingers in front of him, now realizing that it was as easy as he had originally expected. Carefully, he place the tip of the blade between his fingers, then began to move down his hand.

It was on the way back to the thumb that he cut his ring finger.

Russia looked at his now bleeding hand in disappointment. He'd managed to lose by his first try, and he was only going half the speed that America was.

"It's harder than it looks, huh?" America said. "I've had a lot of practice. I used to place it with my citizens all the time whenever I had to travel out west, but that was a while ago. Try again. You get better with practice."

Russia nodded and started over. From there, the two started taking turns, going back and forth every time America finished through a run or Russia cut himself. By the time Russia finally did the routine without hurting himself, he had cuts in twelve different places. America then started showing him a couple other, more complicated routines that he knew, doing them with speed and accuracy that legitimately impressed Russia. Perhaps he should be careful when America has any access to blades.

"Hey, have you ever heard of the knife Song?"

"The what?"

America chuckled. "The knife Song. It's a cute little jingle that someone wrote for this game. You can sing it as you jab the knife."

He started the hardest routine that he knew when he started singing. "Oh, I have all my fingers. The knife goes chop chop chop. If I miss the spaces in between, my fingers will come off."

It was ten minutes later that England returned to inform them that the meeting was being moved to another room, as the one that they were using had been scheduled to be used by someone else after them and they needed more time, so America left with him after finally convincing Russia to give England his dagger back. Russia chose to go elsewhere, however. To where, they didn't know. It was only after the fiasco of a meeting was over that America saw him again, and what he found surprised him.

He found Russia playing Five Finger Fillet with Belarus.

It was strange seeing Russia spending time alone with Belarus willingly. America guessed that he might have actually gone and searched her out, knowing that she was sure to have at least one knife somewhere on her person. Belarus had the knife that the time, and from what America could see, she was a natural. This was probably her first time playing as well, and she was already at half his record speed. He would have to play against her sometime.

For now, however, he chose not to interfere. Belarus never got much time with her brother, as she was a terrifying stalker and he was so afraid of her. He didn't want to ruin it for her. She might kill him, anyway. So he went on his way, leaving the two siblings to continue their game in peace. He could give them that much.

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 **The end! XD Thanks for reading!**

 **~AnonymousTwit**


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